A Dance of Dragons
by Krawrz
Summary: After suffering a betrayal from Kairoz, Wrathion was sent to a world different from any he'd ever known. And led him into the court of the last known Targaryen also known as the Mother of Dragons, Daenerys. Could he trust this Dragonqueen to help him?


The sun was relentless and each step only seemed to make it worse. Wrathion wasn't sure how he even got to this grassy land. "Damn that Kairoz," The young dragon cursed the bronze not for the first time. The bronze had betrayed him and sent him though one of the tears through time. It wasn't Dreanor, Outland or Azeroth that was certain.

Crimson stained the cloth under a hand he pressed to his side. "If the bastard hadn't caught me by surprise... " The pain slowed him and down and made him hesitant to switch to his true form. At least he managed to come across a shoreline, all he had to do was to follow until he found a city. The salty air tousled his curly dark hair. It has been hours since he first arrived.

A steep hill forced the weakened dragon to climb. Just as he was about to give up hope, civilization came into view. The pyramids weren't close, but they were enough to awaken a burst of energy. If he could figure out where he was then he could possibly find a way back once he was healed. Wrathion's body may have been battered and weak at the moment, but his mind was not. He would hide his heritage to play it safe. Appeal to the scholars and to the monarchy if necessary.

The people and culture were unknown. They wouldn't understand his words and could kill him on the spot simply for being a stranger encroaching on their land. Yet it was a chance Wrathion had little choice but to risk. And the young whelp is not completely helpless, he is a dragon after all. He winced as the pain in his side flared. "Damn Kairoz. Damn the whole Bronze dragonflight to the nether..."

The sun was nearly at the horizon by the time he was close enough to the wall to judge its height. He heard light steps and the soft movement of light armor. Four men surrounded him, they appeared to be soldiers with spiked helms. One barked in a foreign language he had never heard before. The language had a certain growl to it. "I mean no harm!" Wrathion held up his hands to show he was unarmed. Another noticed the wound and said something to the first one to speak.

They seemed to have a little debate on what to do. Of the words that were thrown around one of the more prominent was "Mhysa." They spoke too quickly for him to attempt to pick out more. Then the first one nodded a bit reluctantly and lowered his spear. The other three followed suit and he motioned Wrathion to follow. With a sigh of relief, the whelp took one step before collapsing into the dusty dirt. He felt too drained to walk any farther. Arms tugged him back to his feet. They helped him into the city.

It was a gesture the weakened whelp was grateful for. It also meant they saw him as something worth accepting into their city, or at least they were curious about him. Darkness gnawed at the edge of his vision and his eyelids grew heavier. Before the whelp knew it, he was asleep while being dragged by the Unsullied.

It wasn't until hours later, Wrathion finally awoke on a lumpy, feathered mattress. His clothes were neatly folded on the nightstand except for his pants. He sat up and immediately regretted it when a sharp pain stung his side. He gingerly touched the area where Kairoz left his mark to find it bandaged. It was good chance to reflect on his situation. Wration knew many languages, he had to if he wished to communicate effectively with the many races of the Horde and Alliance. But he knew none that this world knew.

He needed to get back to Draenor soon. Although he was sure the Azerothians could handle themselves against the Iron Horde, it would be pleasant to watch the action. Wrathion was especially interested to know what his champion was up to. His musings were interrupted by footsteps approaching his room. The door creaked opened and a young girl came in with two of the soldiers with spiked helms.

Her voice didn't have the harsh accent the soldiers had, it was soft and gentle. Still, it was just a bunch of gibberish to him. She paused, taking note of the whelp's confusion then spoke again in what seemed to be a different language. It went on for a few minutes of her trying to find a language he was able to understand to no avail. Finally she gave up and pointed to herself, "Missandei."

He understood what she was trying to do. "Miss-an-dei." He pronounced slowly, the girl nodded excitedly then pointed to him. "Wrathion." Missandei was quickly able to grasp it. She handed him a book filled with glyphs he never seen before. She pointed to the first word on the first page then said, " _ābra."_ Then pointed to herself and nodded, she pointed to him and shook her head then to the two soldier and shook her head.

At least that meant the same thing. She saw that Wrathion was unsure what _ābra_ referred to, so he grabbed a feather and parchment from the nightstand and drew a rather crude picture of a woman and pronounced the foreign word again. She drew a man then spoke another word, " _Vala_." It clicked then.

They spent the rest of the day learning the language he had eventually learned was called, " _Valyrian."_ It was actually quite enjoyable as the dragon was a quick learner. He had learned most of the languages of Azeroth during his first year of life. The light shining through his only window dimmed as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. Another set of footsteps caught his ears, he heard it a few moments before Missandei or the _Unsullied._

Again a girl walked in, this one held a regal air around her. Even Wrathion had to admit she was beautiful with silver hair and bright amethysts for eyes. An older soldier in steel armor of a knight. He had snowy hair and it was obvious he was experienced. Another guard with a spiked helm, but he was different from the ones he'd seen.

Missandei bowed before the silver haired girl. _"Your Grace, I have been teaching him some Low Valyrian. He's learning quickly."_ Wrathion didn't fully understand what the child said, but he sensed the silver haired girl was important. Something about her roused the dragon's curiosity.

 _"What about his own language?"_

 _"He does not speak any language I know, Your Grace."_ Missandei seemed a bit disappointed about that. The silver girl placed a soothing hand on her shoulder then looked to Wrathion, _"Can he understand me?"_

 _"Yes,_ " He responded quickly. _"I am Wrathion. I am not... born here."_ Finding the right words wasn't all that easy. It was made particularly difficult when he had to speak and hear in a language he'd never encounter before. The girl didn't mind or didn't point out his mistakes.

 _"My name is Daenerys Targaryen. Why have you come to my city?"_ It took a moment for him to piece out what she was saying before he figured 'Daenerys' was her name. And _'my city'_ made her the Queen. She was just a child, about Anduin's age and he sensed she didn't belong here.

 _"I... wish I not here."_ He groped for the right words. _"Where is here?"_ Both of the girls looked at him with bewilderment at his words. For a moment he thought he had said something wrong. Even the old knight's suspicious eyes showed confusion.

 _"Meereen. You are Meereen."_ Daenerys spoke not unkindly. _"Rest, I will speak with you again, Wrathion."_ She took her leave then. He got the sense her old knight didn't like him very much. The scribe left shortly after leaving him alone with a few books.

"Adventures should be left to adventurers." He flipped through the foreign glyphs of what these people call _Valyrian_. "The things a dragon must go through to save his world..."

* * *

 ** _AN: Hey! I just kinda thought this up on the fly. Wrathion is my son, so I had to write something about him and I'm in love with A Song of Ice and Fire series. Game of Thrones is good too, although not as good as the books in my opinion. Anyways this is a two-shot. I thought this would cool like the Mother of Dragons meeting a little whelp in the form of a teenage boy. May have some aspects of the show._**

 ** _Wrathion belongs to Blizzard._**

 ** _World and Dany and friends belong to George RR Martin._**


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